


hold me gentle (like the winter snow)

by levlinwinlaer



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Sanvers - Freeform, SuperCorp, Winter, sssfe17, thisissueeverybodydies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levlinwinlaer/pseuds/levlinwinlaer
Summary: Written for @thisissueeverybodydies for the SSSFE17. The prompt: Deep winter. It's freezing out. One/both (depending on which ship you pick) is frozen to the bone. Warming up is in order.I kind of strayed from the prompt, but it's sanvers winter proposal fluff. Who can resist writing that?





	hold me gentle (like the winter snow)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissueeverybodydies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissueeverybodydies/gifts).



> cheers sanvers is still together and happily married and i am still in denial clink clink happy hanukkah/christmas/holidays (and a happy new year) also i didn't really fulfil the prompt but it's winter fluff so :/ what can you do bro sometimes winter fluff just writes itself

National City’s snow is special.

It starts in delicate little winks of ice that flutter down from the sky and melt in your hair, and then it becomes a soft, gentle downpour that dots your cheeks with half-second droplets. In the mornings, it blankets the ground in an unbroken sea and it crunches under your feet and when you lay down in it there’s a brief sensation of being cradled and then you feel the cold seep into your blood between your shoulder blades- and when it’s time to go outside you’re forcibly bundled up by the people you love and sent outside and you toss the powder up in the air and hold up your hands and catch it in your mittens and squint at the snowflakes to see if you can tell them apart and your sister hovers a hundred feet above your head to snatch the biggest snowflakes out of the air before they fall apart and she brings them back down so you can see them too and- well. Alex  _loves_ the snow.

Maggie? Not so much.

“Can you believe it?” she asks with a grumpy frown, peering disconsolately out the window. “Take a look- Alex!”

“Yeah,” Alex says absentmindedly, her hands pressed to the wonderfully cold window, watching the powder build up on the world outside.

“Alex, pay attention- can you  _believe_ it, on the day that the precinct wants the goddamn progress report presentation? God, I hate snow.”

 _That_ gets Alex’s attention. She turns abruptly, frowning. “What? Snow?”

“Yes!” Maggie pours herself an enormous mug of coffee, holds her hands above the steam. “It’s so annoying! It’s like… it just builds up on the roads and there are tons of crashes and roadblocks and it’s horrible and- not to mention, it’s  _cold_. So fucking cold, and it gets into my bones and makes me feel old, which pisses me off, and then I want to kick everyone’s asses! And, according to Kara, that’s-” she raises her voice to a high-pitched chirp- “not in the holiday spirit-“ back to her normal voice- “and I  _hate_  the cold! I hate it.”

Alex just stares at her. Maggie scowls defensively and hunches further over her coffee.

“I hate snow, okay? It’s the worst.”

Alex calls Kara, then and there. “Kara,” she says, maintaining direct eye contact with Maggie, “I have some very bad news.”

“What? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“Maggie doesn’t like the snow.”

Silence, then a short, scandalised gasp, and Maggie’s already lost the battle.

 

Three minutes and a lot of forcible grappling later, Maggie’s glaring out from underneath a comically enormous fluffy hood. Kara stifles a giggle as she zips her up.

“Watch it, little Danvers,” Maggie threatens, as Alex manhandles her out the door. Kara mimes zipping her mouth shut, but the snort slips out anyways.

Alex slams the door behind her, and shoves Maggie into the snow, wrestling her down.

“Danvers!” Maggie shrieks, beating her mittens against Alex’s back. “Danvers, I swear to God, if you don’t let go of me I’m going to-“

“You’re gonna what?” Alex asks, picking up a handful of powder and raining it down on Maggie. “Pout some more?”

“I don’t pout! What the fuck?”

“It’s fun. Look.”

“Danvers, don’t you dare throw that-!” Maggie flails, and accidentally tosses a wave of snow into Alex’s face. There’s a beat of silence, while they stare at each other, half-melted snow dripping down Alex’s jaw, and then Maggie starts to laugh and Alex’s mouth curls up in a devilish smile.

“Two can play that game,  _Sawyer_.”

And then Maggie gets a faceful of snow.

 

It’s pretty fun, scrambling around and laughing, but Maggie wouldn’t admit it on pain of death.

The shower they take afterward is even better, though. Soapy hands and slick bodies and Alex’s hair between Maggie’s fingers and— well. This is supposed to be a fairly PG-13 recounting, but I’m sure you can imagine the kind of things that happened.

 

Afterwards, Lena Luthor comes over (‘Is that Lena Luthor knocking at the door? Kara, what the  _hell_?’) and Alex burns her tongue on hot chocolate and Maggie downs her mug of warm apple cider like a shot and Lena pulls a bottle of wine out of her purse and Kara microwaves ice cream (‘Really, little Danvers? That’s disgusting.’) and drinks it straight out of the carton. She spills it down her pastel plaid shirt (‘I can’t believe you actually thought you were straight for so long with that kind of fashion choice.’ ‘Shut up, Maggie.’) and takes it off then and there and accidentally gives the Luthor kid an eyeful and she blushes so hard that Maggie’s afraid she’s going to faint. Maggie nudges her, winks.

“Keep it together, little Luthor,” she whispers, and if she wasn’t sure about their relationship already, she is now.

 

When the Luthor kid gets up to go to the bathroom, Maggie tugs Kara aside with two fingers hooked into her collar (a new shirt, but still plaid. The little Luthor had accompanied her to the bedroom to ‘help her get changed’, and honestly, they’re the least subtle people Maggie’s ever met).

“Yo, little Danvers,” she says, lifting her mug of cider. “So, uh. You kissing anyone for New Years’?”

Kara pushes up her glasses so fast she gives herself whiplash. And stabs herself in the eye.

“No! No. Well, not at the moment. Because, you know, I don’t really have anyone -“

“Really. You don’t have  _anyone_?”

“What makes you think I have-“

Maggie’s done with this horrible unsubtle wordplay now. “Why haven’t you told your sister that you’re banging a Luthor?”

"I'm not- Maggie! I'm not banging her! I'm- well- it's not  _just_  banging. She's super pretty and nice, by the way, I know you don't- I know Alex is the person who probably has more of an issue with- I actually- I, um." She looks at the ground, smiles, bashful and earnest. "I think I might be in love with Lena."

That’s the exact moment that Kara chokes on her own spit, Lena comes out of the bathroom, and Alex rounds the corner.

There’s a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, a frozen smile appearing on her face. “What was that?”

And that’s how Alex finds out.

Oops.

 

There’s a lot of yelling, a lot of Maggie shooting apologetic glances at the Luthor kid while forcibly restraining an apoplectic Alex, a lot of yelling back, a lot of hugging, and a little bit of crying.

“Welcome to the family, kiddo," Maggie says, throwing an arm around Lena's shoulders and watching Alex put Kara in an affectionate headlock. "There's no getting out of it now."

"You seem to like it," Lena says. "The 'family' thing, that is."

"Oh, definitely. You want a life lesson, little Luthor?"

"Sure," she says, with an expectant half-smile twitching at her mouth.

"Find the kind of family which gets you sex, brownies, and good whiskey. There's nothing like it."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Across the room, Kara peels out of Alex's grasp and trots over to Lena. She reaches for her, murmurs something into her ear and grinning. Lena whispers something back, a full smile spreading across her mouth and crinkling the corners of her eyes, and yeah, Maggie gets it.

"Alex," Kara shouts, slinging her jacket around her shoulders. "We're gonna go get potstickers."

"Bring some back, loser. Have fun on your date."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you!"

"Use protection!" Maggie hollers after them. Both of them go fire red, but Lena lifts a middle finger above her head as they walk out the door, and Maggie snickers proudly.

There's silence for a moment, Maggie watching the door absentmindedly, and Alex sidles up behind her. She presses a kiss to her jaw, rests her chin on Maggie's head. "What're you thinking about?"

Maggie's fingers go, automatically, to the pocket of her jacket, curling around the little black box. 'Marry me,' she mouths to herself, the words sitting easy on her tongue, and knows- it'll be soon.  _Soon_.

"Nothing," she says, and turns to kiss her.

 

It happens on the last day of Hanukkah. Everyone (the Danvers family and J’onn and Winn and James and Lena) Alex is still licking the strawberry jelly from the sufganiyot off her fingers when Maggie stands up from the couch. Eliza and Kara stare at her for a second, Kara wearing that quizzical puppy-dog look, the Luthor kid looking bemused beside her, J’onn hiding his knowing smile behind his mug of hot chocolate. And then it clicks.

(She asked Kara, a few weeks ago, for her blessing. Pulled her aside, still in full Supergirl regalia, and spit it out as fast as she could. She cried. Both of them cried. So did Eliza, when she found out that evening.)

Maggie takes a breath, loud in the sudden quiet, everyone looking expectantly up at her. Kara’s eyes bug out, her fingers digging into the armrest of the sofa. Eliza smiles to herself, takes a picture. (It ends up in the photo album, next to a picture of Alex in a dress with white icing smeared across her wide grin.)

“Alexandra Danvers,” she says, and kneels, pulling out the box, and Alex’s hands fly to her mouth. “You are the most intelligent and badass and beautiful and amazing person I have ever met. And I adore— fucking _adore_ — so many things about you. Like the way you, inexplicably, love the snow.”

“It’s so fluffy and cold and cottony!” Alex says, and- fuck, she’s already crying a little.

“And,” Maggie says, raising an eyebros, “the way you cried once while we were watching Spongebob because you felt bad for Plankton.”

“He’s so little!” Alex protests. “He doesn’t deserve all the shit that happens to him!”

“And,” Maggie continues, “the way you look in dresses and the way you look in tactical gear and the way you think like a soldier because you _are_ one and the way you never give up on everything and the way you’d do anything for your family and the way I sometimes hear you singing the X-files theme song under your breath when you’re working on an alien case and the way you pretend you’re in Law & Order when you bust an illegal organisation and the way you hold a gun— by the way, you look so, _so_ unbelievably hot when you point a gun.

“But the point is, I’ve spent a lot of my life not having a family. And then when I came to National City, and I met you, and Kara, and all the idiots at the DEO- no offence, J’onn, I don’t mean you- and I got a family. And I am so, so glad that I told you to get out of my precinct on that first day. By the way, if you haven’t yet realised, I’m asking you to kick my ass at pool for the rest of our lives. So, Alex Danvers. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Alex blurts out immediately, and stands, reaching for her. Both of them are crying, Maggie grinning like an idiot, and everyone’s clapping and Alex is wiping her tears away and tugging her in for a kiss and she tastes like strawberry jelly and whiskey and Winn whistles and Maggie fits the gold band onto Alex’s ring finger with shaking hands and Kara whoops, delighted and exuberant, and— yeah. It’s wonderful. It’s all beautifully wonderful.

 

A few celebratory glasses of champagne and an excessive amount of Instagram ring pictures and a lot (a _lot_ ) of celebratory engagement sex later, they lie in bed together, naked and peaceful, moonlight glinting off the ring on Alex’s finger.

Maggie presses her face into the back of Alex’s neck, flinging an arm over her waist.

“Your feet are so cold,” she mutters sleepily.

A quiet murmur, soft and content, and then a shuffle of sheets and limbs and-

“Alex!”

“You asked for it.”


End file.
